Chains II: the Links Holding the Chains
by La miseria y la muerte
Summary: The unanswered questions of Chains. Tuck's story from the beginning of his life to the end. How he loved, lost, gained and lived.
1. A Flicker of Hope

Chains II: the Links Holding the Chains  
  
By La miseria y la muerte and Invader Alex  
  
Author's note:  
  
I, La miseria y la muerte, am not, and never will, be Rob Renzetti. He is one of a kind. I am not, but maybe someday will be, an employeer of Frederator, Nickelodeon or Viacom. I made much of this information up about Tuck and Brad, and some of the other characters' past. Tuck's birth date and how and where Tuck was born is all unknown to us. I'm just a writer of fiction. The following things, however, I did not make up. That older siblings can, and will, change your life. That true love will motivate us to do unimaginable things. And the loss of this love is the greatest of pain one can feel.   
  
With these words, I open the story of Tucker Magoy. May it cast into your heart.  
  
***  
  
Chapter One - A flicker of hope  
  
***  
  
He had loved her, with all his heart, soul and mind. They were each other, they became one another, when they were with each other, they ceased to exist. But their love was seperated still. All the bumps in their love's long road, each of them worse than the next, causing them only to love more. He had loved her through all problems they had to withstand.  
  
But he had came into this world, like all of us, with his eyes closed. He was blank and unaware of what was happening. He heard nothing, saw nothing, felt nothing and knew nothing. And then a bright light shone and his life began.  
  
On May 21st 1992, doctors hurried down the hospital hall as Mr. and Mrs. Magoy stared in awe at their newborn baby boy. The baby boy whom seconds after he was born had medication and tubes put into him. The doctors told the couple that the baby had to be baptized soon, or it might be too late.  
  
Every parent knows the arrival of either of their babies like it had been yesterday. They cherish the memory like a family heirloom. On the arrival date of Tucker Magoy, his parents heard he would not live to see his first birthday. All the waiting and planning, after telling all the relatives, seeing all the ultrasounds, he might not live to truly be a part of their lives.  
  
Bradley Magoy, their first child, was only three years old; most parents don't teach their children about death until they're several years older. The young Brad walked up to the glass medicine filled box and looked at his baby brother's unopened eyes for the first time.  
  
"Is that my brother?" Brad asked his parents.  
  
His father didn't want to disappoint Brad, so he lied, "No, that's not your brother. Come on son, we have to leave."  
  
"But he's my brother."  
  
"No, no, you have no brother. We have to leave Brad."  
  
"I want to see my brother!" the stubborn three year-old argued.  
  
Something inside this little boy, too young to even be in school, told him that the baby was his brother. No one knows how, but he knew somewhere inside himself. And he did not let go of that fact.  
  
"Let him talk to the baby." Brad's mother sighed, "It couldn't do any harm."  
  
Brad's father just shrugged and walked off.  
  
"Hi brother," Brad said, "We're gonna grow up together, and everyday we'll have fun together. You'll see, we'll be the happiest brothers ever."  
  
At that moment, the baby opened his eyes. His first sight was his older brother looking at him. There is a special love between siblings. From the first time they catch gaze, to the last words they say to each other, the love is there, and maybe, just maybe, is was that loving connection that saved Tucker Magoy's life.  
  
"What's his name, daddy?" Brad asked.  
  
"He's not your brother, get away from him." Brad's father ordered.  
  
"What's my brother's name?"  
  
The mother sighed. "What do you think his name should be?"  
  
Brad stared into the baby's eyes. "Tucker," He said, "the baby's name should be Tucker."  
  
"Fine then," his mother said; for she had lost all hope in the baby's life. "His name is Tucker Magoy."  
  
The doctor wrote out Tucker Magoy's birth certificate. Then his parents signed it and it was official. I don't exactly know what had made official. Whether or not they had made that certificate, Tuck would still be born. It merely declared the fact.  
  
"Come on Brad," His father said, "we have to go now."  
  
"But I want to stay with Tuck."  
  
"Get away from the baby," His father ordered, "I have to go to work and you have to go to day care."  
  
Brad waved good bye to his baby brother as his dad dragged him out of the hospital room.  
  
***  
  
Two days later, Brad's mother came home from the hospital. She immediately pulled her husband aside to talk to him in private.  
  
"It's bad." She said.  
  
"How bad?" He asked.  
  
"They said that they give him a week before....before...before his time comes."  
  
"It's all right. We tried." He gave his wife a hug and tried to make her feel better, but the truth was, he was as torn apart by the news as she was.  
  
Brad walked into the room. He knew, by another unknown childly instinct, that something was wrong. "Where's my brother?" Brad asked.  
  
"We told you, you don't have a brother." Brad's father couldn't even look him in the eyes as he lied.  
  
"But you told me that I would have a brother."  
  
"We were wrong, sweetie." His mother said.  
  
"Then who was that baby at the hospital?" He asked.  
  
"No one. No one," his father said, "You'll never see that baby again."  
  
"We have to baptize the baby, before, um, you know." His mother whispered to his father.  
  
"I'll call the priest." He whispered back.  
  
"He'll never live." His mother sighed.  
  
Without an ounce of hope on his parent's part, Tucker Magoy lived. This would be no story had he not.  
  
As the days went by, Brad would pray for his brother in the morning, at supper and at night before he went to sleep. There is never just a flicker of hope in a young boy. When a child believes in something, a fire roars within him. Everyday, as Brad prayed, the fire just became bigger and stronger. Somehow, that strength reached little Tuck in his glass case at the hospital, and he made it.  
  
***  
  
END CHAPTER 1  
  
*** 


	2. Bwother

Chains II: the Links Holding the Chains  
  
By La miseria y la muerte and Invader Alex  
  
Chapter 2 - Bwother  
  
After the week was over, Brad's mother and father were expecting the hospital to call and say that Tuck was dead. They called, but they did not bring news of grief. They simply said that Tuck was making a lot of progress. Then they called the next day and said that he was better, and they kept calling and their spirits had a sudden lift. In what seemed like no time, his parent's had called the priest back saying that Tuck could be baptized in a church, and then his father reassembled the baby's crib and everything seemed real again. Then one day, they received the life-changing call.  
  
"The baby has been excellent." The doctor said, "It's as if God is looking down on him. You can take Tucker home tomorrow."  
  
And so it happened. The brother that Brad was told he did not have came home in a basket that following day.  
  
"Brad," His mother said, "this is Tuck, your brother." She introduced the two, even though they had already met.  
  
Brad looked in the basket. "Mom," He said, "is he going to live with us now?"  
  
"Yes. He's part of our family now." She answered him.  
  
No baby, however, can totally recover from an illness that quickly, or even completely. Tuck still had to take medicine every day. That medicine made him weak and sleepy, and he never truly took in enough of his mother's milk. He grew to be pale and skinny, such an awkward baby. No one thought Tuck would ever grow independent. He was thought to be incapable of talking, feeding himself or crawling, nonetheless walking, all of these skills that most of us take for granted that we have learned with ease. No one ever thought he could carry on life by himself. And maybe that would have been true if he had not had an older brother.  
  
Brad had already taken in very much independence for a three-year-old. He knew what he had to do and when he had to do it. He had traits of responsibility that do not grow on most of us until we are twice as old as Brad was. He had the potential to take on a greater responsibility, and he took it on his own needy brother.  
  
If Tuck was left alone for a short amount of time, he would cry. He couldn't stand being by himself; he depended on so much. Brad became a parental figure in Tuck's eyes. He showed Tuck books, games, toys and all sorts of things that kept the baby happy for hours at a time. In fact, it was Brad that helped Tuck along the first time he crawled, and it was Brad that held Tuck's hand as he first walked. It comes at no surprise that when Tuck uttered his first word, it was 'bwother'. Brad had beaten out all the odds. He taught his brother the things that people said it would be impossible for him to learn. Tuck grew to love his brother so much, that it was a tragic moment for the both of them when Brad went to his first day of preschool.  
  
"Brad, it's time to go." Mr. Magoy said.  
  
"Go where?" Brad asked.  
  
"For the hundredth time, it's your first day of preschool today."  
  
"Bwother." Tuck, just barely a year old, unsteadily crawled over to Brad and grabbed at his pant's leg.  
  
"I'm leaving Tuck, ok?" Brad released himself from Tuck's grip.  
  
"Bwother." Tuck said again.  
  
"I have to go now, bye Tuck." Brad said as he and his dad walked out the door.  
  
Tuck stared at the closed door. He had been left alone for the first time in his life. Though he was yet to know it, braving out loss would become something he had to do very often in his life.  
  
"Bwother," Tuck said again.  
  
Mrs. Magoy picked him up off the ground. "Come on sweetie, mommy's going to make you some formula."  
  
As time went on, Tuck and Brad spent less time together. Brad made friends in preschool, and he spent most of his time with them. So it came that Tuck no longer depended upon his 'bwother'. Tuck became much more independent, by his second birthday he could walk in and out of rooms with ease and he could chew and digest food like a normal person. That baby, whose parents heard that he would die within a week, grew to be just like any other baby at the age of two. But we must switch our focus for a moment and talk about Brad.  
  
Brad was adventurous from the start. With his friends he played cop games, alien hunting games, anything that involved action. He wanted to run and chase people down, jump over fences and catch the bad guy. He always took on the roll of the hero whose life was filled with action. One thing was for certain, Brad didn't want to waste one second of his life doing anything boring. Which is probably where his friendship with Matthew started.  
  
Matthew was very much like Brad. He enjoyed the action, the adventure, but to him it was all make-believe. Aliens weren't real, monsters weren't real, they were just games to pass the time with. Still, Brad and Matthew would spend every day together. If there was something to do, Brad and Matthew were there. Whether it was a TV show repeat or a new game to learn, they did it together.  
  
But their friendship, in the future, would be almost forcibly silenced. But for now we will continue on our story about Tuck.  
  
Tuck soon approached the age of four when he entered preschool. The teachers did not expect much from him, due to the diseased condition he had as an infant. However, would you believe, that Tuck was, in fact the first person in his entire preschool to learn the alphabet? Soon after, he was the first to learn to count. Then, he became the first to memorize all seven colors of the rainbow. The teachers were stunned. Tuck was a genius.  
  
They contacted his parents several times. "Mr. Magoy," they would say, "I think Tuck belongs in a much more prestigious preschool."  
  
Tuck's father would just look at his son. He couldn't believe it. "Tuck's just a boy," He said, "and in his condition, he's just where he belongs."  
  
"I seriously think that this young boy is a genius. He belongs somewhere else."  
  
"I can't afford a fancy school. I'm just a guy in a small town. This isn't the kind of stuff for me or my kids."  
  
"But he has so much potential!" His teacher pleaded.  
  
Mr. Magoy took a look at Tuck while he was sitting there and playing with blocks. Maybe just by coincidence, or maybe by Tuck's genius, the blocks faced upward and spelt Dad. "I'm sorry," Tuck's father said, "but I can't give that to my son."  
  
Was it right of him to say this? Was it right of him to discard any thought towards his son's future and education?  
  
No, of course it wasn't.  
  
He could not afford what his son needed, and he did not wish to dwell on the fact that he could not provide for him. He never admitted to his own incapibilities and faults. Which is, I'm afraid, a characteristic so many of us have.  
  
Tuck entered Kindergarten, but not without many a phone call and letter saying that Tuck should skip right to first grade. Mr. Magoy nearly laughed at the idea. Kindergarten is too much of an important grade, he told them and they still pushed, but nothing came of it.  
  
Most parents see their child as the brightest star in the sky or the most deserving child on Earth. However, with Mr. Magoy, he saw Tuck as just another boy, but with Tuck's medical records and knowledge, that was far from the truth. Tuck's father had done a much worse thing than overestimating a child; he had underestimated a child.  
  
Like most unrecognized geniuses, Tuck's mind failed itself. Which is such a shame because Tuck easily could have changed the nation, maybe the world. The knowledge was Tuck's, but the opportunity was not. But his teachers decided that he needed to be taught something extra, before he lost his talents completely. He couldn't keep going like he was. So the school, once again, contacted Tuck's home. Luckily, this time they reached his mother. She thought that the idea was excellent, and she wanted Tuck to go as far as he could. She consulted and persuaded her husband and they finally reached a comfortable center point. If Tuck stayed in his own grade and within school hours, they could teach him a little bit extra. So it came to be, as of decision by his teachers, that he would learn one more thing before anyone else - reading.  
  
They could have taught him addition, subtraction, world history, anything they thought fitting. But they taught him reading and it shaped this story.  
  
Tuck's mother was still not contempt with Tuck's learning status. She insisted upon Mr. Magoy many times that Tuck went further still. And, every time, he refused. He simply said that Tuck couldn't learn more and didn't need to learn faster. He was far too precautious of overwhelming his son.  
  
And so it continued like that in the Magoy household. Tuck's mother pushing for him to go further and Tuck's father stopping them and keeping him behind. An endless argument in a vicious cycle.  
  
And what of Tuck, caught in the center of all this? His future undecided? How hard and sorrowful must his life have been? Though it pains me to say it, this is just the beginning.  
  



	3. One Day in August

Chains II: the Links Holding the Chains  
  
By La miseria y la muerte  
  
Author's note:  
  
I know it's been forever since I uploaded a chapter. I had a writer's block and was trying really hard to get out of it. But writer's block is like quicksand- the more you struggle to get out the more it swallows you whole. I just had to write something quick to upload. I wish I could upload chapters to this fic the way people upload scraps at deviantart. That's kind of how I write, short, quick ideas just to get them out of my head. The problem is getting myself to go back and polish them through.  
  
One last thing- Brad and Tuck's last name is actually Carbunkle. I kid you not. But it'd be a pain to go back and change every time I said their last name, so for this fic I'm just keeping it as Magoy.

Chapter Three - One Day in August

Throughout Tuck's next several years of school, he learned much reading. And from that there evolved a love of writing. After having read only a few books, he could hardly keep his pencil down. Ideas were bursting inside of him and he just wanted to get them all down. Over the course of his first, second and third grade years of school, he filled several notebooks with his writings.  
  
He tried to find some kind of reader within the people that surrounded him, but with each attempt to find one, he failed.  
  
His mother didn't want to have to bother with her child's wilting genius anymore, and his father never wanted to deal with it to begin with. Brad, because he was his adventurous eleven-year-old self, was bored by reading of any sort and didn't do his brother any help. A few teachers read some of Tuck's stories and gave him little tips along the way, but they really didn't effect him much at all. The problem wasn't his writing. His writing was beautiful by all definitions. The problem was getting people to listen. It was like a sweet, unheard melody. One that hardly reached human ears, but when it did, it touched them deeply.  
  
And so it became that Tuck had to become his own teacher. Every indecision was never settled. Every time he needed a second opinion he had to go without. And maybe, in a way, this helped him. Without the constant thought of watchful eyes, he could just write. There was no worrying about a critic. And though he never received praise or help, he didn't really need either.  
  
But over the years, writing without hearing any feedback grew boring. It began to lose it's excitement and thrill of thinking of characters, their motivations, dialogue, scenary, he began to grow a want for people's thoughts on his work. He couldn't rely completely on his self-confidence. And he might have stopped writing altoghether if it wasn't for that one day in August.  
  
It was a busy, crowded day at the mall. Countless parents dragging their children through stores. Mrs. Magoy was one of those parents.  
  
"Tucker, hurry up. We have to get you and Brad new things for the school year." Mrs. Magoy said.  
  
Tuck stayed close to mom after that warning. He didn't want to get lost in a mall full of strangers anyway.  
  
Mrs. Magoy brought Tuck into another store. She just wanted to make her way through the mall, buy enough school supplies for her sons and then leave. She wasn't extremely happy about being there, but she made an effort to look like she was.  
  
Tucker didn't pay much attention to what his mother was buying. He didn't really care about how many pencils or notebooks he had going into the school year. His mind wandered to other things.  
  
He suddenly caught sight of a poster in the front of the store. 'Writing Contest- children ages eight to thirteen' it read. Tuck smiled. He was nine. There was a writing contest in his age group, he didn't have to know anymore. He wanted to enter.  
  
"Tucker," his mother said, carrying a stack of school supplies to the register, "It's time to go."  
  
Tuck ran over to his mom and tried to get her attention. "Mom," he said, receiving only a glance as a response, "I wanna enter the contest?"  
  
"What contest?" Mrs. Magoy said, annoyed, as she set down her stack of items in front of the cash register.  
  
"The writing contest." Tuck pointed to the poster.  
  
"Tucker, we don't have time for this." Mrs. Magoy said to her son while she pulled out some money from her purse.  
  
"But mom..." Tuck said, trying to think of some logic he could use to persuade his mother. "I need to!" Was all he could come up with.  
  
Mrs. Magoy ignored her son's desperation and was about to drop the thought completely before she saw the odd look the cashier was giving her. It was as if he was saying, "Geez, how can you do that to a kid?"  
  
Mrs. Magoy pasted on a smile, let out a nervous laugh and then sweetly asked the cashier, "Could I have one of those entry forms for the children's writing contest?"  
  
"Sure thing." He handed her a form as her receipt calculated.  
  
"Thank you." She said, still smiling as she gave the form to Tuck.  
  
Tuck grasped onto the entry form. So what if it had been earned through his mother's social paranoia? The fact was that he had it, and to him, it didn't matter how it had been achieved.  
  
Tuck raced into his home and sped past his father on the couch. He ran up the stairs and burst the door to his room open. He turned on the computer and impatiently waited for it to start up.  
  
Downstairs, Tuck's mother walked in carrying several shopping bags. She set them down on the beige carpet as she turned to Mr. Magoy. "Hi, honey." She smiled her big ruby lips.  
  
"What's with that boy?" Mr. Magoy asked, "He ran up those stairs faster than I've ever seen him run in his life."  
  
"Some silly writing contest. He begged for an entry form at the store. I figure this is all just a fad and if we play along he'll grow out of it."  
  
Tuck, still upstairs and oblivious to their conversation, hurriedly starting typing away at his keyboard. He started typing incredibly quickly; he didn't want to think about the words just yet, he wanted just to get them out.  
  
Tuck was so caught up in his writing that he hardly noticed when Brad walked in.  
  
"Hey Tuck," Brad said, "Playin' some computer game?"  
  
Tuck shook his head. "Writing."  
  
"Writing?" Brad said, almost in disgust. Then he noticed the entry form laying on Tuck's bed. "For this contest thing?" Brad asked.  
  
Tuck just nodded.  
  
"Hey, slow down Tuck," Brad sarcasticly said, "It's hard to understand you when you talk so fast." Brad picked up the form and started reading it.  
  
"I'm trying to finish this." Tuck said.  
  
"You've got a month, what's the rush? You're typing faster than.... hmm, don't really have anything I can compare that to."  
  
"Brad! I'm trying to concentrate here!" Tuck said, angrier than he had hoped to sound.  
  
"Sorry," Brad said sarcasticly.  
  
Tuck just sighed and kept writing. Brad didn't matter, he was in his own world.  
  
Three weeks later, Tuck finished his story. He read it through over and over again. Everything was just the way he wanted it.  
  
He printed out all the pages and stapled it to the entry form like the rules said. He flipped through the pages one more time. There was something inside of him bubbling with excitement. He knew that never before had he written something this good. He ran downstairs as quickly as he could. He had another week before the entries were due, but he wanted to get his in as soon as he could.  
  
"Mom!" He shouted.  
  
"What is it Tuck?" Mrs. Magoy shouted from the kitchen.  
  
Tuck walked into the other room. "Mom, I need to go the mall. I finished my writing contest entry."  
  
Mrs. Magoy grabbed his entry and turned through the pages. "Geez Tuck, six pages! Don't you have anything to do?" She sighed.  
  
Tuck brushed aside her comment, "When can we go?" He asked.  
  
"Augh, we might as well go right now. The grocery's store is across the street and I need to buy something for supper." Mrs. Magoy grabbed her purse and handed back to Tuck his story.  
  
"I'm taking Tuck to the mall, honey!" She shouted to Mr. Magoy in the living room. "We're gonna bring something home for supper!"  
  
"Fine!" He shouted back.  
  
"C'mon Tuck, let's go before the grocery store closes." Mrs. Magoy  
  
Tuck wasn't quite sure of what his mom meant, the grocery store closed at seven and it was four-thirty.  
  
Tuck ran into the same store he had been at weeks ago. He was several steps ahead of his mother.  
  
"Tuck, quit rushing like this. We have plenty of time." His mother said.   
  
He stopped for a second. Wasn't she the one that had just minutes told him to hurry before the grocery store closes? He shrugged. He didn't know what his mother meant, but he convinced himself that it wasn't any big deal.  
  
Tuck walked with his mother slowly, but excitedly, into the store.  
  
Mrs. Magoy leaned over the counter with the cash register. The clerk behind it looked at her and said, "Can I help you?"  
  
Tuck waved his entry over the top of the counter. Nine years old and he could hardly see over the top of the desk.  
  
"My son finished his entry for the writing contest." Mrs. Magoy said, taking the papers out of Tuck's hand again. "Do we turn it in here?"  
  
"Yeah, I'll take that." The clerk took Tuck's story from Mrs. Magoy.  
  
"All right, thank you." Mrs. Magoy said as she gave Tuck a slight push out of the store.  
  
Tuck looked out the car window as the scenery rolled by. He was excited, and nervous, that day. It was the day when the awards were announced for the writing contest. Tuck had convinced his entire family to come with him, and so Brad, his father and mother were all in the family car all on the way to the small center where the winner would be announced. Tuck had a huge smile on his face and a swarm of butterflies in his stomache. He could hardly stand on his two feet by the time his father parked the car in front of the center.  
  
The rest of his family unenthusiasticly got out of the car and walked a few paces behind Tuck to the inside of the center. Tuck rushed to the doors of the building with his family still behind. Brad just groaned and sighed. He had better things to do on a Saturday. Mr. and Mrs. Magoy were irritated that their son was participating in something as frivolous as this.  
  
No one wanted to be there except Tuck, and he didn't want to be anywhere else.  
  
Tuck sat with his unamused family in the bleachers. In just a few minutes, they would be announcing the winners.  
  
"Welcome all to the announcement ceremony of this year's writing contest held by the local mall." The speaker announced to the entire auditorium.  
  
Brad rolled his eyes. This was beginning to sound a lot like a speech.  
  
"I remember when we first started this contest we just hoped to bring up some artistic interest into young citizens..."  
  
Yeup, this was a speech.  
  
Tuck eagerly sat through the speech, awaiting the announcing of the winners. He was nervous enough to start biting his fingernails, and he waited, bright-eyed and anxious.  
  
"...And even through all of that, this contest stayed." The announcer droned back in, "And so without further ado, let's reveal the winners."  
  
Tuck felt his palms sweating.  
  
"We'll start by naming off the third place winner." He said.  
  
A blonde girl named Elizabeth won the third place prize- a medal and twenty dollar gift certificate to the mall. The second prize winner would get a pint-size trophy and fifty dollar gift certificate. The first place winner got a trophy and a one hundred dollar check.  
  
Tuck tapped his fingers against the bleachers, trying to calm himself down before they announced the second place winner. He had chewed his fingernails down to stubs.  
  
"And the second place winner is," He announced, "Fred Thompson."  
  
A short, red-haired boy walked to the front, shook hands with the announcer and accepted his prize. Several cameras flashed and hands clapped.  
  
"And now to announce the first place winner," The announcer said.  
  
The butterflies in Tuck's stomache were flapping crazily. He hadn't won anything yet. Could it be that he was...  
  
"First place is Tucker Magoy." The words rang through the auditorium. Hands started clapping like crazy. Tuck was sweating and trying to comprehend what he had just heard. The words had reached his ears, but somehow, he hadn't heard them.  
  
He asked himself, did I just win?  
  
"Get up there, Tuck." Brad said.  
  
Tuck walked to the front of the auditorium. His legs felt like jelly.  
  
He shook his hand with the announcer and then he was handed a trophy and a one-hundred dollar check with his name on it. He smiled as a few cameras flashed in front of him. It may have been just a small local writing contest, but Tucker Magoy looked like he had just won a pulitizer prize.  
  
After it was all said and done, Tuck still had that wide smile on his face. People were coming up to him just to say, "Congratulations." And people were even approaching his parents.  
  
"You must be very proad of Tucker." One woman said to Mrs. Magoy.  
  
"Oh yes, yes, we are." Mrs. Magoy smiled and said, "We've always known he was meant for something like this."  
  
Brad walked up to Tuck. He had that big stupid smile, what'd he think he won a state-wide contest? So he wrote some story and beat out a few local nobodys. Big deal.  
  
"How's your fifteen minutes of fame going?" Brad asked his kid brother.  
  
Tuck turned around to look at Brad. "What?" He said, a little unaware of what Brad meant.  
  
His older brother shook his head. "Nothing"  
  
"Come on Tuck, I have a million errands to run." Mrs. Magoy said through her pasted smile.  
  
"Wha?" Tuck started to get confused as his mother grabbed him by the hand and dragged him through the auditorium.  
  
His mom seemed angry at something, but he had just won! He thought she would be proud.  
  
"But mom," Tuck said, "I won this trophy, and the check-"  
  
"Give me that Tucker," Mrs. Magoy said as she swiped the check straight out of Tuck's hands.  
  
"Mom that's mine-"  
  
"Shush!" Mrs. Magoy said sharply. She had a migraine and was not in the mood for this. "The family budget's running low this month. Honestly, every time you kids go back to school I have to spend all this money on new things and this hardly accounts for half of it." Mrs. Magoy shoved the check in her purse and put her hands on her hips as she walked out with the family behind her.  
  
"Brad," Tuck said, "Did you see what-"  
  
"Augh," Brad moaned, "Would you quit whining? You drag me all the way out here on a Saturday and get bored to death by some guy's twenty-minute speech, and then you complain about some little detail. Well cry me a river!" Brad sarcasticly said.  
  
Tuck just didn't understand. Everyone else there had thought it was good that he won. They all clapped for him, he could still hear that sound in his head. But his mother... his whole family... they weren't proud of him.  
  
Why?  
  
He wanted to win. He was happy that he won, but his mother thought it was something terrible. He couldn't figure it out. He didn't know what he had done wrong.  
  
He didn't care that his mom had stolen his hundred dollars. She could have it all. He didn't even need a victory. All he needed was her to be proud of him. Her approval; for his mother and his whole family to know that he was doing something right. But he didn't even get that.  
  
As he got back into the car, there was a tear coming down his face. 


	4. Salt Lake City

Chains II: the Links Holding the Chains By La miseria y la muerte  
  
Author's Note:  
Okay, the next chapter will have fluff. And Jenny/Tuck fluff at that. Prepare to have your eyes sucked out of their sockets! D  
  
Chapter Four - Salt Lake City   
  
Tuck sat in his room, his pencil racing across the paper. He would have been typing it on his computer, but his parents had taken it out of his room a few days ago. He had wanted to ask why, but he didn't.  
He was trying to find an answer, a reason. He felt like he shouldn't be writing anymore, but there was no logic behind his thought. He suddenly felt as if it was bad when he wrote. But it was hard to stop himself. He really didn't want to do anything but write. It was hard for him, trying to decide what the next step in his life would be. He could do what he wanted, but it seemed like the world was choosing something else for him.  
You all know just as well as I do that it wasn't the world preventing him from writing- it was just his parents. But Tuck was only ten, he didn't know any other world. These were the people he had known all his life. If they couldn't accept him, then who could? He thought he had to change. All these opinions that didn't matter clouded his mind for years.  
Because his mind was so clouded, there was something Tuck failed to notice- the town recognized him. After he won the writing contest, people assumed that something great, eventually, was going to happen to him. He was the prodigy of his home town- until he had to leave.  
  
Like everything else that happened in Tuck's life this was cause and effect. The cause- Mr. Magoy was offered a new job in California; the effect- their entire family had to move.  
Brad moped around the house for weeks. He didn't want to move. He had friends in Salt Lake City. And besides, who wanted to live in some two thousand population town like Tremerton? It was in California, but it wasn't near a beach, it still snowed in winter and there was an annoying fair every other week (an annual brother & sister picnic didn't exactly scream 'fun' to Brad.  
He was having another one of his moping days not long before the family moved. Almost everything was packed in boxes and Brad was just sitting on the couch, trying to make himself look as depressed as possible. Mrs. Magoy carried another box into the living room and gave Brad a tiresome look. "Bradley, I know you don't want to move, but that's just too bad." Mrs. Magoy started lecturing, "I don't want to move either, but I'm not whining about it. Now go to your room and start packing or we'll just leave all your stuff behind."  
Brad sighed and got up. He knew his mom was just making another empty threat, but it sounded like she might extend the lecture. He put his hands in his pockets and started walking to his room.  
  
Tuck didn't even understand. Why did they have to leave? He didn't want to move. He knew no other place in the world besides his home. He was almost twelve now, and things were growing more confusing to him by the minute. He couldn't figure out what direction he was steering his life, and now he couldn't figure out where he was. He felt like this would be a little bit of a wreck- moving. True, he didn't really have many friends in Salt Lake City, but it was still his home.  
He sat at the kitchen table, his head in his hands. Mrs. Magoy walked by and sighed. "Here we go again...." she muttered to herself.  
She sat down next to Tuck. "Is something wrong, sweetie?"  
"Why are we moving?"  
"Because your father has a new job in California." She answered. He knew that she would say that.  
"I don't want to go..." Tuck trialed off and his small plea remained unheard by his mother.  
He really didn't want to go. He didn't know what was coming. He didn't want to adjust to new ways.  
But they left all the same.  
  
As the car pulled away from the one home that their complete family had ever known, Tuck was the only one who looked back. He was the only one that wondered what was going to happen to him. He lifted himself up and looked out the back window. His home at 441 Maple St. faded away. And then the entire town of Salt Lake City faded, but it wasn't just a town to Tuck- it was his town. It was the only place he had ever known. It was where he grew up and for all his life it was where he thought he belonged. And now he was going to some strange new place where no one knew him. As his town faded away his life seemed to fade away with it.  
Tuck sank back into his seat and started humming himself a song. But his parents were arguing with each other over the directions and Brad had turned the volume up on his CD player to drown out the world around him. And no one heard Tuck.  
He was humming 'Happy Birthday' to himself. That day was May 21st- Tucker's twelfth birthday.  
  
"Well, here we are." Mr. Magoy said as he parked the car in front of their new home.  
Brad got out of the car and immediately sighed. "Can't wait to start living here." He said sarcastically.  
Mrs. Magoy rolled her eyes. "Bradley, for once can you stop complaining about the new house?"  
"What'd I do?" Brad threw up his hands defensively.  
"Augh, never mind." Mrs. Magoy said as she took one of the boxes out of the car.  
Brad looked over next door. It seemed like just a normal house, but there was something... mysterious about it.  
"Hey mom," Brad said, "Who lives next door?"  
Mrs. Magoy looked over at the house. "Some old 'Wakeman' lady. She's been living there for years now, never seems to see the light of day."  
"Maybe," Tuck said, climbing out of the back seat of the car, "She's a mad scientist and stays in there all day doing evil experiments and creating horrible machines and-"  
"Enough, Tucker!" Mrs. Magoy said, "Our next door neighbor is not a mad scientist. Honestly, that imagination of yours!" She sighed. "Me and your father have to unpack all these boxes. Just find something to do and stay out of the way." She shook her head and walked inside with one of the boxes in her arms.  
Tuck took a good look around at their new home. It seemed pretty nice, a lot smaller than their old home had been, and it was obvious that the city was much less popular. He didn't really think much of it at the time, so he went and got his baseball and bat from one of the boxes in the trunk of the car. He might as well have fun and play a little baseball while he was there. He put on his hat and ran outside.  
Brad Magoy had been in Tremerton for about five minutes- and already he was bored. He grabbed one of his comic books and sat on a chair in the front lawn. He thought to himself, the next four or five years of my life are gonna be pretty boring- but that thought didn't last very long.  
A noise of shattered glass resounded through the air. Brad looked up from his comic book. There was a hole in the shattered glass of the front door on the Wakeman house. 


End file.
